I'd noticed her working in the upscale Department Store other times when I had gone shopping there. Oft times, when I would see her from a distance, I would hesitate for a moment to drink in her beautiful little figure. She was what I considered a perfect example of everything that is beautiful about the fairer sex.
This time when I looked around for her, I discovered her working at the Cashier's Checkout stand. Well, I thought, as I got into her check out line, here goes nothing...
Finally, I'm up to her Cash Register.
"Boy, if I had someone like you at home, I'd never let her leave the house."
"Please... I'm just a poor working girl," she laughed, not exactly impressed, but not altogether immune to my awkward charm.
Up close, she was like a beautiful rose that was just starting to do a slow fade. Her trim little figure was still ripe and beautiful. Her maturity only enhanced her attractiveness.
I fell in love with her slender hips and her little compact behind.
(Sorry! With a woman this beautiful I just can't bring myself to refer to that part of her as her Ass.)
Her friendly Southern accent was so soft, intimate and warm. Color me smitten!
She was looking at me, searching my face for sincerity—trying to see if I was just another one of those countless guys who had idly flirted with her over the years.
"I take it, you're not married."
"You take it right," I grinned.
"How about you?"
"Not for several years now," she said.
"Well, we're going to have to do something about that!" I laughed.
"Really?" she replied summoning up some of that coquettish charm she had misplaced somewhere along the way. Her sweet smile made her soft brown eyes crinkle.
"I know the perfect type of guy for you."
Oh, really... ," she laughed. "And pray tell... just what type would that be... , kind Sir?" she asked.
"Well... , what you need is some old guy—with one foot in the grave; and the other foot on a banana peel."
"And you know just such a guy, right?" she laughed, seeing the humor in our conversation and starting to enjoy it.
"Yeah... ," I laughed, "if I thought it would do me any good, I'd go right out and invest in a banana."
She laughed. "Are you saying you have one foot in the grave?"
"Are you kidding—I may look old but everything about me is in working order."
With a mischievous little smile she asked.
"Oh Yeah! You'd definitely be getting the old but newly improved model!" I promised with a lighthearted grin.
"Oh, please Sir... ! Are you trying to sweep me off my feet? Come to think about it... ," she laughed, "My feet are pretty tired from standing, so maybe that's not such a bad idea." she laughed.
(Ever had a time when you can't think of a single thing else to say? Well... , Haven't we all?)
So, I paid for my purchases and left. People were already starting to stack up behind me. I felt bad that I had taken up way too much of her time.
A few moments later putting my packages into the trunk of the car, I made a decision.
I'm not going to let it end this way, I thought. Reaching into my pocket I ripped out a page from my little notebook and wrote my name and E-mail address on it. Also, just in case she didn't have a computer, I included my telephone number.
A short message followed. If you think our getting to know each other would be something you'd enjoy—please E mail me!
A short time later, I again approached her now very busy check-out line.
"Oh, this is the address of that thing I was talking to you about."
Busy as she was, she rewarded me with a faint smile of understanding.
"Thank you!" she replied, not even breaking her rhythm as she continued punching into her machine the items the customer was purchasing.
The Long Wait...
From about 6:00 o'clock on that evening—I continued to check my E-mail account every half hour or so.
Just when I thought perhaps she wasn't going to contact me, I saw those three beautiful words—so dear to the computer generation.
"You've Got Mail!"
Fumbling all over myself in my haste to open the E-mail, I finally clicked on it and started reading.
Hi, my name is Vivian Stafford. I enjoyed our little repartee' today. Sorry I was so busy. You seem nice—Are you really as nice as you seem?
Anyway, you have my E mail address and I'll include my phone number in this E-mail.
If you would like to call me, please feel free to do so. I'm usually home most evenings from 6:00 PM on.
Not wanting to pressure her in any way, I waited until the next evening to call her. She answered on the second ring.
"Hi, this is Vivian." a sweet slightly sultry voice said.
"Hi, Vivian, this is Richard Larson. Most folks call me Rick."
"Hi Rick... , It's so nice to hear from you."
"I had a hard time waiting until tonight to call you," I laughed, a bit embarrassed to be admitting it.
"Would it make you feel any better if I told you I was hoping that you would call me last night?" she asked in a quiet voice.
I suspected she was probably smiling as she said that. It was such a pleasant and relaxed feeling to be talking to this beautiful woman. She had such a gracious way. I felt so comfortable talking to her.
"Vivian, if you're not doing anything this Friday evening... , would you like to go out for dinner with me?"
"Sure," she said, "That would be nice." Nothing bashful or coy, just a plain honest forthright answer.
"I thought we might go out to the Glen Island Restaurant."
"WOW," she laughed. "I hope I have something appropriate to wear. That's a pretty upscale place."
The restaurant wasn't that busy for a Friday evening. Having been there before, and being a customer in good standing we were shown directly to our table.
I couldn't help noticing by the way her brown eyes were taking it all in with just a faint sense of wonder. It was easy to see she had never dined there before.
Another thing I noticed was her demeanor. Though perhaps not as well dressed as most of the other diners, she had that quiet beauty; and her gracious manners would have enabled her to fit in anywhere.
"Richard, this is so lovely!" she whispered to me softly.
"I wanted to bring you somewhere nice. What makes this place lovely for me is being here with you," I smiled.
"Richard... , are you always this charming?" she asked, looking me with just a hint of a smile.
At that moment our dinner was served. A while later lingering over coffee I sensed she was tired. A moment later I caught her suppressing a yawn.
"I'm sorry Richard, it's been a long day for me," she said, with a weary smile. "Please don't think I'm being rude, or that I'm not enjoying being with you—I'm just tired."
"Vivian, you look tired. Why don't I take you home. There'll be other times," I promised.
"I hope so," she smiled. "This has been so lovely. I love being here with you."
Walking her to the door of her apartment a short time later, I was very proud of myself. If I could pick someone beautiful to kiss goodnight... Vivian would be right at the top of my list.
Instead, taking her keys, I opened the door for her—held her warm fingers in mine for a long moment then said goodnight.
"Can I call you tomorrow?" I asked.
"Sure," she replied. "I'd like that."
Up early, preparing to fix a breakfast of bacon and eggs, my phone rings.
"Hello... , Rick speaking."
"Hi Rick, this is the tired and probably boring lady you were out with last night. Did I wake you?"
"Oh, no, I've been up for hours."
"How would you like to come over for breakfast? You would be getting the newly rested, improved, and fifty percent brighter model," she laughed.
"That would be nice, Vivian, but I already have breakfast underway. Do you like bacon and eggs?"
"Yes... ," I could hear the hesitation, mixed with a faint trace of disappointment in her voice.
"Why don't I come over and pick you up. Then we could have breakfast here."
"Well... ," okay. Are you sure it won't be too much trouble?"
"Hey, do you think I would miss a chance to spend time with the rested and newly improved Vivian?" I laughed.
"I just have to get dressed. I'm still in my bathrobe," she laughed.
" Wait... don't interrupt me," I laughed. "I'm trying to picture you taking your bathrobe off and getting dressed."
"Careful," she giggled, "You could be in for a shock. How do you know I'm even wearing panties underneath my robe."
"I don't." I laughed, delighted she was so open, and not at all the prudish sort.
"Actually, I'm in my Jammies," she laughed.
"That does it! I've changed my mind. I'm coming over to your place to have breakfast with you." I laughed.
"Come on over then," she laughed.
"Of course there is just one condition to that."
"Oh, and what is that?"
"You have to promise to stay in your bathrobe till I get over there. I love being around a woman in her bathrobe."
"You're serious, aren't you? Okay... , I promise. But don't blame me if you're disappointed," she laughed.
At Vivian's place
Vivian met me at the door wearing her white wrap around bathrobe. I wasn't disappointed!
"WOW!" I said. "You look so rested and relaxed. I feel like I'm seeing the real Ms. Stafford for the very first time."
.... There is more of this story ...